I bit down on my lip hard enough to taste copper. Sneering, I opened the messaging app's storage. Sure enough, Cara's profile picture was there. Their avatars matched.
He said, "If love lasts forever," and she replied, "Does it matter if we're together every day?"
I clicked into the chat and was greeted by a flood of "Darling, I miss you" and "Baby, when will I see you again?" Determined not to let my emotions take over, I activated the screen recording feature. My thumb pressed against the inside of my wedding ring, hard, the gold biting into skin. I kept scrolling.
Next, I opened his shopping app. To my dismay, his order history was filled with pregnancy supplements, high-end skincare, imported cosmetics. Every item shipped to the same address. Every delivery made to Cara. The address in Maplewood, that gated enclave the Family controlled, where the homes sat behind iron fences and the neighbors knew better than to notice who came and went.